


the song stuck in my head

by fanfictiongreenirises



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Don't copy to another site, Established Relationship, Everyone is a good bro, Fluff and Angst, Misunderstandings, Multi, Science Bros, Team as Family, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-23 07:54:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17679446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanfictiongreenirises/pseuds/fanfictiongreenirises
Summary: “We are, Hap, but the thing is,” Tony leaned closer over the table, coffee mug cradled in his hands, “Valentine’s Day is what’s going to tell us if we’re gonna make it.”“Why Valentine’s Day?” Happy’s face took on that long-suffering look that Tony was used to receiving from his friends.“Because Valentine’s Day is when all other couples are out and about being gross, and if you do something super cheesy that neither of you would ever do, except on Valentine’s Day, and you both enjoy it because it’s with each other,” Tony waved his hand as he gulped down a large mouthful of coffee, “that means you actually like being in each other’s company!”incredibly loosely based on the prompt "Your character has just found their long-lost love…about three days before they’re supposed to be married."





	the song stuck in my head

**Author's Note:**

> ~~i'm crying this was meant to be a nice short 5k oneshot and now look at it~~
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> i wanna thank my friends @captainofthewasabiclub and [Lesty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lesty/) for reading this and helping me bounce ideas <3
> 
> two disclaimers:  
> \- i don't own marvel or any of these characters  
> \- the science in this is like,,,, half bs half fact. pls don't trust it. (shoutout to both wikipedia and healthline dot com)

15d 9h 12m 

“Hey, what’re you working on?”

Tony quickly pressed a few buttons and a random schematic of the inside of one of his antique cars came across the screen, taking the place of a large list that was to be hidden from Steve’s curious eyes.

“Fooling around a bit, really,” he said, waving a hand at the monitor.

Steve walked over to him, spinning Tony’s chair around until Tony's back was pushed as far back into the chair as it could go. He leaned in and kissed him deeply, Tony’s back arching.

“Mmm, hello,” he said when they parted. “Greet me like that and I’ll never get back to work.”

“The team would manage without us,” Steve told him as he stole another kiss, one hand braced behind Tony. 

Tony laughed against Steve’s mouth, hands wrapped at the back of Steve’s neck. “You have this all planned out, don’t you? Seducing me forever.”

Steve gave him a calculating look. “Well, I’d hope you’d do some of the seducing too. This is a partnership, after all. Equal rights mean equal responsibilities.”

“You’re ridiculous.” Tony shifted his chair forward slightly. “Was there a reason you came down here?” he asked, glancing up at Steve through his eyelashes.

Steve cleared his throat, backing away a bit, grinning as Tony mock pouted at him. “Actually, I came to see if you wanted to come with us to the ice cream place down the road.”

“Us?”

“Clint wanted to go,” Steve shrugged, “and then Thor found out they made a Thor flavour, and wanted to taste himself.”

Tony wrinkled his nose. “You could’ve worded that better.”

“I could’ve,” Steve said. He placed his hands in his pockets, leaning against one of the work benches. “So, you in?”

“Sure,” Tony replied. “JARVIS, save everything. I’ve always wanted to see what the outside world thought the essence of Captain America tasted like.”

“Everyone knows I’m a heady combo of freedom and patriotism.”

 

14d 13h 5m

The thing was, they had been together for about seven months, some of the strangest but happiest of Tony’s life. They had gotten together in the heat of the summer, as all love poems began, but it was almost spring now, winter finally starting to leave them, and they were still somehow going strong.

Tony was holding his breath every step of it, tiptoeing around their relationship. It was as though a creak, any at all, would lead to the ground giving way, and he was doing his very best to keep that from happening. Because Steve? He was the best thing Tony had ever had.

He explained so to Happy.

Happy’s brow was furrowed, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned back in his chair. “I dunno, boss. You two seem fine.”

“We are, Hap, but the thing is,” Tony leaned closer over the table, coffee mug cradled in his hands, “Valentine’s Day is what’s going to tell us if we’re gonna make it.”

“Why Valentine’s Day?” Happy’s face took on that long-suffering look that Tony was used to receiving from his friends.

“Because Valentine’s Day is when all other couples are out and about being gross, and if you do something super cheesy that neither of you would ever do, except on Valentine’s Day, and you both enjoy it because it’s with each other,” Tony waved his hand as he gulped down a large mouthful of coffee, “that means you actually like being in each other’s company!”

“Boss, I gotta be honest with you,” Happy said seriously. “That’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said. And you say a lot of dumb shit.”

Tony glowered at him. “Fine, then. When did you realise you and Pepper were going to make it?”

Happy’s mouth twitched into a smile. “The first time she got sick and I was over, because she didn’t shut me out and I got to be there for her. I wasn’t grossed out or anything, because… it was Pepper, y’know? That’s when I thought, even if I spent every second of every day for the rest of my life with this woman, it still wouldn’t be enough.”

Tony would never admit to being slightly teary at that. “Okay, that was really sweet, but Steve doesn’t get sick. And every time I get hurt on the field he comes and yells at me. It’s our thing. What does that mean, then?” 

Happy gave him a look. “It means he cares about you and he’s expressing his fear and other pent-up emotions through anger.” He went to take a bite of the donut sitting on a plate before him before whipping his head up and adding, “But that doesn’t excuse domestic violence! If he’s—”

“I know, I know.” Tony raised a hand and held it palm up, half to make his point and half to avoid getting a face full of powdered sugar. “He’s not like that. Besides, if we can’t trust Captain America to not hit his partner, who can we trust?”

Happy looked like he was about to say something, but Tony cut him off before he could begin.

“All I want to know is if he’s serious about me. And I think this Valentine’s Day idea will work fine!”

Happy sighed. “You do you, boss.” He gestured to the waitress to ask for a top up of his coffee.

 

9d 11h 15m 

Tony had just booked a reservation for lunch on Valentine’s Day at one of the most expensive Italian restaurants in the city when Pepper walked into his office with a stack of paper in her hands.

“These,” she said, dropping them onto his desk with a loud _thump_ , “are for you. Enjoy.”

“Wait! Pep!” Tony called after her frantically, rising out of both his chair and the sheer shock of being delivered a pile of hand cramps. “I need your help!”

“With the paperwork?” Pepper asked, turning to face him.

“Relationship advice.”

Pepper’s eyebrows rose slightly. She walked back in and sat on the couch, patting the spot next to her for Tony. “I’m always up for giving you relationship advice. Seeing how you and Steve are the most sickly-sweet couple and most of the time it feels like a therapy session for you.”

Tony huffed out a breath as he dropped himself down beside her. “I want to know if he’s serious about us,” he began.

As he spoke, Pepper’s forehead developed more and more crinkles, eyes widening comically at a certain point that Tony hastily took to mean he should immediately take the idea off the list.

“So what you’re saying is,” she said slowly, “in order to see whether Steve is serious about this, you want to put him through the most horrifically cliché Valentine’s Day ever, that he’s supposed to actually hate, but won’t because you’re there with him?"

Tony frowned. “Well, essentially, yes.”

“Tony,” Pepper exhaled slowly, “what if he’s thinking the exact same thing?”

“What, so like we both have matching plans or something?” Tony cocked his head slightly, twisting his body so he could rest an elbow on the head of the couch and lean his head against his fisted hand.

“No. What if he’s thinking, ‘how do I know he’s serious about me?’, and he sees,” she gestured grandly with her hand, “ _this_?" 

“Pep, I don’t think you got what I said,” Tony said sourly. “See, if he – _we_ – make it through the whole day and neither of us complain, it means we both love each other enough to ignore everything else around us.”

“Tony, one of your plans is to visit the Museum of Sex. That sends… a particular message.”

Tony opened his mouth before closing it again, scratching his goatee absentmindedly. “Maybe you’re right.”

Pepper stood up. “I’ll be in my office, in case you get any other plans.” She grimaced. “I know I tell you to leave me alone to get work done, but if you change _anything_ , come see me.”

 

8d 21h 0m 

Unbeknownst to Tony but very obvious to everyone in the general vicinity, Steve was also having a small crisis over their first Valentine’s Day. 

“Sam, c’mon. You can’t say you’re my wingman and then do this!” he shouted as Sam closed the door of his apartment in Steve’s face.

“For the last time, man, it’s three in the damn morning! Go sleep on what we spent _all day_ talkin’ about!” came Sam’s exasperated voice.

Steve rested his head against the door, wondering just how his life had gotten to this point. If he’d just dated more in this century instead of having one-night stands before he’d started going out with Tony, he’d have been more prepared for something like this. He’d have known what to expect.

Steve knew that Tony was a romantic. He was the first one to make any sort of gesture, grand or small. Tony had been the first one to say _I love you_ , the first one to visit at work, the first one to buy Steve chocolate and a bouquet of flowers. Hell, he’d been the one to ask Steve out in the first place.

Steve was lagging behind in the game. He needed to make sure Tony knew he was in this for the long haul, for as long as Tony would have him. It was the one day he knew Tony had taken off for the two of them – he’d asked Mrs Abrogast, who’d told him that Tony was brewing up one hell of a storm – and he knew that the romantic at Tony’s core would want to have the perfect day.

He’d just have to see if Natasha was awake.

“JARVIS?” he asked as he stepped into the elevator up to their floors. “Is anyone up?”

“Only Dr Banner and Master Stark are asleep,” JARVIS told him.

Tony was asleep; that was good. He needed it, and it’d be easier to go straight to Natasha’s rooms without checking in with Tony first and giving him an explanation as to why he needed to talk to Natasha so urgently at – he glanced at his watch – three fifteen in the morning.

“Tell her I’m coming up, if that’s okay with her?”

There was a brief pause. The elevator was on Natasha’s floor, but Steve knew it would only open if Natasha agreed to it.

“Ms Romanoff says you are quite welcome,” JARVIS said. The elevator doors opened, and Steve walked out into the stillness of Natasha’s floor.

There was something soft playing, flute maybe. It was slow and haunting and made Steve feel slightly on edge. Natasha’s floors were artfully decorated but tentative, like how his had been for the longest time. There was little personal touch – it was as though one had walked into an IKEA magazine. But Steve had seen framed photos of the Avengers, some of people he didn’t know, and there were books in Russian on the bookshelf in the corner. She was trying.

Natasha was sitting cross-legged on a green armchair, a large blanket laid out over her lap. As Steve got closer, he realised she was crocheting it.

“Morning, Rogers,” Natasha said.

Steve took a seat in front of her, watching her work. It reminded him of his childhood. “Sorry for barging in so early, Nat.”

“I was up.”

There was silence for a moment, Natasha’s hand steadily working with the yarn in her lap. Her fingers were long and slender; if Steve had had his notebook with him, he’d have a sketch of them half finished by now.

“For Valentine’s Day,” he began.

Natasha’s eyes rolled slightly. “Of course it’s about Valentine’s Day,” she muttered. “I better not need vodka for this conversation, Cap.”

Steve huffed a breath. “I hope you don’t. It’s just—” he twisted his hands in his lap, “I need to do something meaningful for Tony, y’know?”

“Why?” Natasha asked flatly. “What’s so different about Valentine’s Day? Why not your anniversary?”

Steve shrugged. “It’s the day everyone’s expressing their love,” he said. “And Tony’s a romantic at heart. I know he’d want to do something special.”

He fiddled with the pillow in his hand – bright yellow with a pattern of sunflowers. Somehow, it worked with the colour theme of the room.

“Maybe you should talk to him about it. You don’t want your plans to clash.” 

Steve rubbed at his forehead wearily. He hadn’t thought of that, despite knowing that Tony was planning something. “I’ll talk to him.”

He was just getting up when Natasha called, “Steve.” Turning back, he saw her looking at him contemplatively. “You might want to take him to that garden we found on the way back from the mission in France and have a picnic or something there. They offer carriage rides and I know for a fact that Tony likes horses. Keep it simple.” 

Steve smiled at her. “Thanks, Nat.”

 

8d 17h 2m 

Tony turned around in bed, yawning. There was a lump beside him that hadn’t been there when he’d turned in, and seeing it made a steady flame rise up inside him like nothing else. He looked at the clock; seven a.m. He didn’t know what time Steve had gotten in last night, but if he wasn’t up by now, then Tony wouldn’t wake him.

Getting out of bed quietly, Tony headed for the bathroom. He needed to head into SI, but his only meeting of the day was with R&D and scheduled after lunch – everyone on the team was the same; sleep-deprived scientists who didn’t do well in mornings. There was a merger with a small company that he needed to look over the details for as well.

JARVIS had started up the coffee machine, and he smiled his thanks at it, breathing in the aroma of freshly brewed coffee beans. He hunted through the shelves looking for a breakfast he could eat on the go.

“Banana?” a voice said from behind him. Tony jumped slightly, narrowly missing hitting his head on a ledge.

“Fuck, you scared me,” he said with a laugh. “I thought you were asleep.”

“I woke up while you were in the bathroom,” Steve said with a smile.

“So you haven’t brushed your teeth yet?”

“If I say no, will that stop me from getting morning kisses?”

Tony tugged Steve forward by his shirt, bringing him down to his level with another pull at his collar so he could kiss him lightly; a greeting. Then he leaned back slightly, forehead just touching Steve’s. It was moments like this that he treasured the most, the times when the rest of the world fell away and it was just the two of them in the morning sunlight.

“I wanted to ask you,” Steve began, rooting through the fridge for yoghurt, “what’re your plans for Valentine’s Day?”

The bite of banana Tony was swallowing went down the wrong way, and he began coughing violently. Steve hurriedly got him a glass of water, which he downed in three huge gulps, Steve standing beside him ready to thump him on the back at any given moment.

Still coughing, he waved his hand dismissively. “I’m fine,” he wheezed out before dissolving into another round. “What do you mean, plans? What’ve you heard—”

“Don’t talk for a bit, alright?” Steve said. “What I mean is, if you have plans and I have plans, we should make sure we – I dunno, allocate the day? – so both work and nothing clashes?”

Steve’s voice was tentative, fingers playing with the spoon in his hand. Tony found it endearing that he was nervous.

“Sure,” he said. “That sounds great. I hadn’t thought about that – I was going full day and everything.”

Steve smiled in relief. “So was I,” he said.

 

5d 13h 59m

They had less than a week left until Valentine’s Day, and Tony was anticipating it more than he ever had in his long life. There was something about knowing that someone else was just as enthusiastic as you were, that they were planning something for you, too, that made it all the better.

There was something about planning for someone you wanted to spend a countless number of Valentine’s Days with that made it better.

Rhodey slurped his milkshake through the red and white striped straw loudly as he looked over Tony’s plans. Tony sat diagonally across from Rhodey, playing with his own straw as he waited anxiously for Rhodey to give him his opinion.

Finally, his friend looked up. “Damn, Tones,” he said. “That’s…so much better than I’d expected.”

“Thank—wait, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Rhodey said with another loud slurp. “Just that I talked to Pepper and she said that in the first draft, you had a getaway trip to England? That was supposed to fit in with five other things?”

Tony had to admit, he may have gone slightly overboard in the first plan. “I’ll have you know that Steve would’ve loved it,” he said anyway. “They had a pirate romance novel theme for the entire trip.”

Rhodey looked at him. “Yeah, but there literally aren’t enough hours in the day for it.” He continued, when Tony gave him a dirty look, “Anyway, I really like this.”

“Yeah?” Something in Tony settled; if all three of his closest friends had okayed the agenda, then it really was going to be fine.

“Yeah, man. Steve’s gonna love it.” Rhodey’s eyes narrowed. “If he doesn’t, he can taste my fist as desert after—”

“Rhodey, honey, if you’re stalking me and Steve instead of being with Carol, then it’ll probably be you who gets the fist.”

“Carol loves you. She’d be happy to stalk you two with me.”

Tony grimaced, conceding to his point. “What’re you two doing?” he asked. “If you aren’t following us.”

“I planned last year, so this year Carol’s taking over. So we’re probably going flying—”

“So you’re probably going flying,” Tony said at the same time. He snorted. “Carol would be horrified if she knew she were so predictable.”

“Better than taking me to the Museum of Sex,” Rhodey responded.

Tony threw a packet of sugar at him.

 

4d 19h 48m

Steve woke to the sound of alarms ringing. Blinking blearily, he squinted to see the colour of the lights.

Blue.

That wasn’t good, but it wasn’t terrible, either.

He glanced beside him to where Tony slept, only to find the spot empty. Tony being gone and the alarm ringing usually meant one thing.

Steve threw the covers off, hastily putting on his uniform.

“JARVIS, what’s up?” he said in the sharp voice of the leader of the Avengers. “Where’s Tony?”

“Sir is in the workshop,” JARVIS said, and Steve squeezed his eyes shut in relief. “He wishes to tell you in person.”

Natasha and Clint were already there when Steve made his way down to the workshop. Clint raised a hand in greeting blearily while Natasha nodded.

“Steve,” Tony said, glancing up at him with a twitch of a smile, “you’re here. Good.”

He ran his hands through his hair, as though he didn’t know quite what to do with them. Steve wanted to go to him, to hold his hands steady, but he didn’t. Instead, he asked, “What’s the situation?” 

Tony swallowed visibly. “The Winter Soldier is here.”

Steve opened his mouth, but no words came out. It was almost a year since he and Sam had given up actively searching for Bucky, instead choosing to believe that Bucky would come to them when he was ready. In that time, Steve had never truly _forgotten_ that his friend was out there, but in order to move on with his life instead of obsessing over him, he’d had to actively push Bucky out of his mind every time he threatened to enter it.

And yes, with all the anticipation and preparation for Valentine’s Day, Bucky had slipped his mind.

Natasha was the first to speak. “He’s here?” Her voice was taut, but her body gave away no indications as to how she was feeling.

Tony nodded. “Yeah. Bruce is with him. They’re in the Hulk room.”

“So is he still, y’know, murderous and brainwashed?” Clint asked. He was half sitting on the bench Tony was at, with a leg dangling, but Steve knew that he would snap into action at any given moment.

Tony shrugged. “Bruce and I were working when JARVIS told us that Barnes was here and appeared to be peaceful. Resting heartrate and everything. No weapons on him. He was the one who insisted on the Hulk containment chamber.”

Steve finally spoke up. “Can I see him?”

Tony looked at him for a moment, expression indistinguishable. “I’ll ask Bruce,” he said before disappearing through a door in the workshop that Steve had never noticed before.

The three of them waited there in silence. Steve tried to breathe calmly, remembering the tricks Bruce had taught him. He inhaled through his nose, exhaled through his mouth, tapping his thumb on the benchtop ten times during each stage.

Tony, by Steve’s count, took ninety seconds to get back. His face was still the mask it’d been the whole time they were there. He looked at Steve.

“He says you can see him,” Tony told him.

Steve let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, legs moving before he’d even consciously thought about it. Robotically, he walked past Tony and through the door, coming out the other side right in the Hulk containment chamber.

In there was a clear wall that ran from floor to ceiling, not quite glass, but impenetrable by a Hulk (that they knew of – they’d never had to use it). On the other side there was a bed, a toilet, a sink, and a little chest full of blankets and pillows, and a spare set of Bruce’s clothes.

Sitting on the bed now was Bucky. Steve’s breath hitched in his chest at the sight of him, legs suddenly frozen. He’d imagined this moment countless times, ever since he’d seen Bucky on the bridge, but now it was all too real and he was terrified that a single wrong move would alienate his friend.

“Hey, Steve,” Bruce said from where he stood by a set of monitors.

“Bruce,” Steve said in what he hoped was a normal voice. He forced himself to walk over to him.

“We can see him, he can’t see us,” Bruce explained. “He said he wanted some peace and quiet, and this is the best we could do.”

Steve nodded jerkily. “So he’s…okay? He’s not still brainwashed?” he asked, biting his lip.

Bruce sighed, taking off his glasses and wiping them on his collar. “The brainwashing had some failsafes,” he said. “If his brain returned to its original state, then it would trigger a chemical in his prosthetic arm, which would then poison him slowly and kill him within a week.”

Steve gaped at him. “And that’s what’s happening now?”

Bruce nodded. “The poison mostly paralyses the body. The victim will start losing various bodily functions. We don’t know exactly how it’ll work just yet, but the point is that he’d be unable to move or talk. It’d root him to one spot for a week, during which his handler would find him and take him back to Hydra.”

Steve felt a rush of anger, unlike anything he’d ever felt before, surge through him. He almost put his fist through one of the monitors. “So there’s an antidote?”

Bruce nodded. “We have a week to find it,” he said. “Don’t worry. We’re already on it. We should have it within the next couple days, but it’s going to be rough for him until then. The effects haven’t fully hit yet – he’s just feeling his limbs tingle now as it distributes itself through his bloodstream. Sort of like pins and needles, from what he’s described.”

“Can I…” Steve couldn’t even bring himself to ask.

“You can go in there,” Bruce said, smiling at him sympathetically. He clapped a hand on Steve’s shoulder before turning back to the screens.

The journey to the door of the chamber was the longest of Steve’s life. His hands shook as he keyed in the passcode, and then the door was sliding open and there was nothing between him and Bucky.

Bucky was sitting cross-legged on the bed, eyes closed and hands on his knees. He looked peaceful, was all Steve could think. His hair was longer than it had been the last time Steve had seen Bucky; it was now brushing his shoulders, with a slight kink in the middle that indicated he regularly tied it up. He looked gaunt and thin, but not alarmingly so.

Bucky opened his eyes when the door opened, face revealing nothing when he made eye contact with Steve.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve said around the lump in his throat. Every instinct he had was telling him to rush towards him, hug him, but he held back, not wanting to spook his friend.

“Steve,” Bucky said, and it was the strangest case of déjà vu that Steve had ever experienced.

He stepped closer. “Is it okay for me to…?” He had no idea what he was asking.

Instead of answering, Bucky stood up and made his way over to Steve. Slowly but surely, he wrapped his arms around him, holding him gently until Steve’s own made their way around Bucky’s bonier frame, squeezing him tight. He tucked his face into Bucky’s shoulder, breathing in a scent unfamiliar to him.

“God, I’m so glad you’re here,” Steve said, voice muffled by both fabric and tears. He let out a wet laugh. “I missed you.”

Bucky pulled back. “I would’ve come sooner,” he said, and they both pretended he wasn’t lying. “Thank you for not chasing me.”

“Sam’s idea,” Steve told him, shaking his head slightly.

He had no idea what to do with his hands; he tucked them into his pocket. They both stood awkwardly for a moment, Steve rocking back and forth onto his heels and Bucky being the stillest Steve had ever seen him.

“So… how’ve you been, Buck?” he finally said.

Bucky shrugged. “You know how it is. On the run, taking out as many Hydra bases as I can. I was in Romania for a few weeks. They have good plums.”

Steve nodded slowly. “Yeah, no, I don’t know how it is, but I’ll visit Romania someday. For the plums.” The _maybe you’ll come with me_ was left unsaid, and Steve had no idea if the silent wish ever reached his friend instead of simply polluting the space between them.

Bucky sat down on the bed again, back in the position he’d been in when Steve had entered. When he saw Steve staring, he explained, “It helps me centre myself.”

“You and Bruce will get along,” Steve said. He walked through the chamber, hand trailing the glass that separated them from the other side. “He gave me some anger management and control techniques. They’re useful.”

Bucky snorted, almost a laugh. “Where was he your whole life?”

 

4d 18h 15m

On the other side of the glass, Tony stood next to Bruce, watching the two of them interact with a thoughtful gaze. He turned to his friend, who was typing on the holographic keyboard (they’d decided long ago that the less technology around Hulk, the better).

“So, what’re we thinking?” he said, turning around.

“Hmm?” Bruce looked up at him, blinking. “Oh, hey, Tony.”

“Hey Bruce,” Tony said good-naturedly. “What’re we thinking this poison is?”

Bruce sighed, leaning back in his chair. “There are only a few poisons that cause paralysis, particularly to the extent James will have by tomorrow. I’ve got samples of his bloodwork and now it’s just a process of elimination.”

Tony nodded. “I’ll help?”

Bruce flashed him a quick smile. “I’m counting on it.” He rolled his sleeves up. “I’m also thinking that the chances of it being a solitary substance is pretty low. They almost definitely mix and matched till they found the exact combination of fatality and paralysis that they needed, particularly given the time frame and the containment method.”

“What’s on your list, doc?”

Bruce waved a hand, and a document opened up. Tony studied it. _Aesculus hippocastanum. Atropa belladonna. Conium maculatum. Consolida subgenus. Delphinium genus. Solanum nigrum._ At the bottom of the list: _solanum dulcamara_?

“JARVIS, send me a copy of that, will you? Bruce, I’ll be in my lab.” With one last look at Steve, Tony left to do what he did best: fix things.

 

1d 13h 11m 

Steve had no idea when he last had a proper meal; the last couple days had been havoc, with Bruce and Tony working on an antidote to counteract the poison in Bucky’s veins, and the rest of them taking turns watching Bucky.

It wasn’t strictly necessary, but there was an unspoken understanding between the team that no one was to be alone when they were down. Surprisingly, Natasha was there the most frequently. Steve assumed it had something to do with their shared past that he had yet to learn about from either of them. 

Steve sketched idly as he sat in the cushioned armchair beside Bucky’s bed. There was a variety of devices around the bed, making it feel like a hospital room. The heart monitor that beeped steadily was all that brought Steve comfort as he rested his eyes upon Bucky’s still body on the bed. He was asleep now, but even when he was awake, he could only move his feet slightly by this stage. Talking had begun to disappear first, the facial muscles being the quickest to go, followed by his upper body. It made sense from a strategic point of view but turned Steve’s stomach.

The drawing he was currently working on was of Bucky – who else? – in full Winter Soldier garb. He’d never show it to his friend, but the image had been plaguing him ever since Bucky had shown up at their door and Steve knew the itch wouldn’t go away until he let it out. Besides, there was already the rough sketch of six other bodies surrounding the Soldier’s.

A sharp rap at the door interrupted the silence of the room. Steve looked up to see Tony.

His face brightened. “Hey,” he said in a hushed tone.

“Hey,” Tony responded, coming over to stand beside him. “Wanted to check in on you, see how you’re doing.”

Steve let out a humourless snort before he could stop it. “I’m doing fine. I’m not the one who’s poisoned.”

Tony gave a sombre nod. “I know. I just—you need to take breaks too, you know? Clint told me you barely leave his side, and from what you’ve told me about Barnes, he’d hit you over the head for not looking after yourself.”

“You aren’t wrong.” Despite himself, a genuine smile lit Steve’s face. “I just…I just want him to be okay, y’know? I want to wipe away every foul thing Hydra put him through, but I can’t.”

Tony placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “You can be there for him when he wakes up from this. Help him through it. It might not seem like enough to you, but it’s what he needs. Also, we have a list of potential Hydra bases that we can go blow up.”

“You know me, always up for giving Hydra a beating.” Steve placed his hand over Tony’s, giving it a squeeze.

They stayed like that for a moment, before Tony sat down on the wide arm of the armchair, his arm moving from Steve’s shoulder to around his back in a half hug. Steve leaned into it, hoping Tony knew how much it meant to him that he was there.

“This last year,” Steve said, “ever since I found out about Bucky, when I wasn’t thinking about how bad I’d messed up with everything, all I could imagine was how it’d feel living in this century with him. It’s—even when I had nothing, I had Bucky, y’know? Some days, it was all I could hold onto, this—this _fantasy_ of the two of us seeing everything this world has to offer together, learning all the new shit. He obviously would be much more tech savvy than I am – I’m sure Hydra wouldn’t let their _asset_ ,” he spat the word, “out and about without teaching him how to hack without a trace.

“But other things, like…ball games, and _food_. God, the amount of food I could introduce him to. He loved to eat – we both did. We didn’t get enough to feel otherwise, really, and walking by restaurants as they were cooking was a nightmare. After his mother died, that was it for home-cooked meals for both of us.”

Tony swallowed hard as Steve spoke. He sat there, on the chair with his arms around Steve, trying not to tense up. He didn’t say anything, knowing that Steve needed to just let out his thoughts and fears and that a voice from him now might just put a stopper in Steve’s.

“You remind me of him a lot. I think that’s part of why I was so angry when we first met, on that Helicarrier. You were, like, the strangest mix of two of the most important people from my past. It’s almost funny thinking about it now, seeing how neither of them are dead.”

Tony fell into a sort of meditative state, listening to Steve talk. He stared in front, not comprehending his surroundings as Steve’s voice washed over him, his words leaving behind grooves in the rocks like the tide over time. Right then, they were just two people, one doing his best to offer comfort to another whose friend was sick.

When Bruce entered, the door opening with a soft _whoosh_ , Tony jumped violently, hand automatically going up in the distinctive Iron Man pose. Steve and Bruce both stared at him as he waved it off with a nonchalance he didn’t feel.

“The antidote’s almost ready,” Bruce said with a worried frown in Tony’s direction. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be right there. Got lost in my head a little. Steve’s voice is very soothing.” Tony gave Steve a tight smile as he followed Bruce. He didn’t see the concerned look in Steve’s eyes as they followed him out the door.

 

1d 12h 55m

“You want me to run numbers?” Tony said, avoiding looking Bruce in the eyes as they made their to Bruce’s lab.

“Yeah, thanks,” Bruce replied. Tony could see him out of the corner of his eye, fiddling with the hem of his lab coat as he used it to wipe his glasses. “Are you okay? You seem a little on edge.”

Tony shrugged. “What can I say? Being in there makes you forget about the outside world.”

Bruce nodded. “Fair enough,” he said in a tone that indicated he would be bringing this up at a later time.

They stopped in front of a work bench with a single vial of a black substance. It was surrounded by other countless vials and beakers, all containing things that were various colours of death. Tony eyed a small container with a few small, white flowers. It almost looked like gardenias, but _cerbera odollam_ was known around India as the suicide tree.

“So,” Bruce began, “the combination it almost definitely is, is black nightshade and – get this – _cassava_.”

Tony frowned. “Cassava? That’s—”

“A shrub, essentially. One of the third-largest sources of carbs in tropical areas, as well as a major staple food in developing countries. The only issue is that it has to be prepared properly; otherwise, the cyanide could be deadly. The level of toxicity also depends on when it was grown – if it was during a drought, it’s particularly bad.”

Tony blinked. “Thanks for the poison lesson, teach. So activated charcoal?”

Bruce nodded. “Yup, with hydroxocobalamin—”

“So inhaling amyl nitrite for about half a minute, and sodium nitrite through a drip? No, we’d—”

“Combine the activated charcoal and the sodium nitrite, because this is Hydra we’re talking about—”

Tony gave Bruce a knowing look. “They wouldn’t make shit that anyone can Google, especially not after giving Barnes the skills he needs to figure out common antidotes that are easily accessible.”

Bruce nodded to the vial. Under the bright lights of the lab, it almost twinkled. “We’re liquifying it, of course. I’ll run a few tests on the sample of James’ blood, and if all goes to plan, we should have an antidote in a few hours.”

Tony felt something in him unclench. “Thank fuck,” he said. He held out a fist, which Bruce tapped lightly with his own. There were few similarities between Bruce and his alter-ego, but Tony had to admit that perfect fist bumping was certainly one of them. “Wait, what did you need me for?”

Bruce glanced at him over the rim of his glasses. “You were in there for a pretty long time, man. You looked catatonic.”

“Steve’s stories put me to sleep, but in a good way! It’s Pavlovian – he reads to me sometimes before sleeping. And I have to admit that sleep, recently, hasn’t been on my list of priorities.”

“Isn’t it Valentine’s Day in two days?” Tony’s skin prickled as Bruce continued to linger his eyes upon him. “You guys are still going along with your plans, right? Bucky should be in pretty far into recovery by then.”

Tony spun around in the wheelie chair he was sitting on. “I don’t want to pull Steve away from Barnes. It wouldn’t be fair to them.”

“If this antidote works fine, which, if we say will work, almost certainly will—”

“Now who’s got an ego.”

“—then there’s nothing to fear. It’ll be good downtime for the both of you—you just said you haven’t been sleeping properly and don’t think I haven’t seen you working on a prototype for James’ arm every spare second. At this point, I think you should both spend Valentine’s Day asleep and reminding your bodies of the food pyramid!”

Tony looked at Bruce, slightly flabbergasted. “Hey, Brucie? Don’t look now but your eyes flashed green.” He let out a breath. “I hear you, okay? But I can’t rest knowing that every minute I sit around is a minute I could spend doing more. The quicker I finish, the quicker I’ll take a break.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Bruce said warningly, pointing a syringe with red liquid at him.

Tony wrinkled his nose. “Is that Barnes’ blood? It doesn’t look like how I thought it would.”

“What, did you think it’d have Hydra written in it in a darker shade or something.” Bruce’s voice was light, but he stared at the blood sample a moment too long.

Tony tilted his chair back until it was almost horizontal. “I never thought I’d see the day when there’d be _one_ supersoldier under my roof, let alone two.” He studied Bruce’s face. “That can’t be easy for you.”

“It is what it is,” Bruce said shortly. “And besides, I now have another sample of the serum that was pretty successful to study. It ups my odds of fixing my biology.”

“My door’s open, always,” Tony promised him, lifting himself up onto an elbow to look his friend in the face, “if you need someone to run the numbers with you before you get to self-experimentation.”

Bruce barked a laugh. “Trust me, Tony, I’m mostly about writing journals nowadays.”

“Ugh. You know that multiple PhDs don’t add more ‘doctor’s to the front of your name, right?”

“Tell that to my business card.”

 

1d 4h 12m

“Steve?” Bruce called as Steve walked through the door, aiming directly for the door to Bucky’s chamber.

“Oh, hey, Bruce.” Steve rubbed at his eyes. “Didn’t see you there.”

Had Steve looked up at that moment, he would’ve received one of the darkest glowers, one that read _that’s what you get when you don’t fucking eat or sleep properly for four days_.

“We think we cracked it.”

Steve was instantly more awake than he’d been a millisecond ago. “Really? It’ll heal him?”

“Yup. It was pretty simple, really. We just had to run a bunch of tests to make sure.”

Steve could kiss Bruce. He _would_ kiss Tony the second he saw him. “Oh, wow. Thank you, Bruce.”

“Don’t thank me. It’s what I do, right? As a doctor and an Avenger.” Bruce grabbed a box that had been sitting on the chair. “The last of the test results came through ten minutes ago. We’re all clear.”

Steve wrung his fingers together. “So—now?”

“Yeah, now. I’ll just get Tony…” Bruce trailed off, looking at Steve through his eyelashes pointedly.

“I’ll get him,” Steve said immediately. He hadn’t properly spoken to Tony in what felt like days. He could barely even remember what he’d said the last time Tony had come into Bucky’s chamber; the last few days were a blur of worry.

“You do that,” Bruce said with a warm smile. “I’ll start setting up.”

Steve ran out the door but came to an abrupt halt the second he was outside. “JARVIS, where’s Tony?”

“Sir is with Mr Barton in the kitchen on the common floor,” JARVIS informed him.

“Thanks.”

Steve headed towards the closest elevator. He flashed a grateful smile at the camera when the doors opened just in time for him not have to break his stride. He was jittery on nervous energy combined with the placebo effect of caffeine, and there was a dull throb in his temple that indicated he definitely should consider eating something, but it was fine because Bucky was going to be fixed and everything would be normal.

Better than normal.

Steve spotted Tony and Clint immediately when the doors opened. “Tony!” he called, jogging up to him.

His face must have really been a vision, because Tony’s eyes went wide when he turned at Steve’s voice. “Ste—?”

He didn’t have a chance to finish his sentence before Steve kissed him, teeth clashing slightly in his haste to get to Tony. It wasn’t a light, chaste kiss suitable for third person spectators – this was deep and knee-melting that sent shivers down Steve’s spine as he combed his fingers through Tony’s hair, mouth parting to—

“Hey, lovebirds, I’m eating here,” Clint said irritably.

Steve broke away, grinning at way Tony followed him, eyes on his mouth. “Sorry, Clint.”

Clint threw a grape at him.

“I came to get you,” Steve said to Tony. “Bruce said that the last of the tests came back and that we can start administering him the antidote?”

“Oh,” Tony said, leaning back instantly. “Right. Yes. I’ll be right down.”

Steve couldn’t resist leaning in and giving him a lighter kiss. “Finish eating first—”

“No,” Tony pushed away the plate in front of him and got off the bar stool, “I’ll have plenty of time to eat once we’re done. C’mon, Barton.”

Clint was looking at the two of them with an inscrutable expression on his face. “I’ll be right there. I’ll get Nat.” He headed the other way, plate in hand.

When Steve and Tony arrived, Bruce had already set up the tubes with the activated charcoal and sodium nitrite mixture, and was attaching the bag of amyl nitrite to the non-rebreather mask. He looked up when they came in.

“Hey, guys,” he greeted briskly. “Steve, I need you outside the chamber. Have the glass transparent or whatever. Tony, I need you to scrub up. There are gloves right there,” he nodded to the sink in the corner.

Steve didn’t even think about objecting, instead giving Tony’s forearm a gentle squeeze and making his way outside. His hands were shaking just thinking about the following procedure; he’d never be able to assist Bruce. But being a spectator was a different sort of torture.

“Hey,” Natasha said from beside him, causing him to start. “It’s happening?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “They aren’t letting the rest of us in—”

“Nat, could you come in, please,” Bruce’s voice sounded.

Natasha gave Steve a reassuring smile before entering the chamber. Clint and Steve were the remaining two standing outside.

“So,” Clint said conversationally as they watched the three of them work, “do we really want to have it transparent?”

“I don’t know.” Steve rubbed at his eyes with both his hands. “It feels wrong to not watch, but just as bad to watch and not be able to do anything, y’know?”

“Yeah, man.” Clint thumped his shoulder with a hand. “Which is why I brought cards. We’re gonna start a nice game of poker to take out mind off things.”

They settled in for the long haul, sneaking periodic glances at the room beside them while they played.

 

0d 23h 10m

Steve’s mouth felt like someone had stuffed cotton balls in it. He didn’t even bother moving his tongue around; the gross texture wouldn’t go away until he brushed his teeth. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he shifted his head. The arm he’d been sleeping on was only just coming awake, pins and needles running through the whole limb. His hand, which had been clutching Bucky’s, was empty.

Steve’s head shot up.

“Whoa, easy there,” a drawling voice said quietly.

It was the accent that made his breath catch in his throat, a hard lump making it difficult to breathe. He didn’t want to look, but he knew he had to.

The top of the bed was tilted upwards slightly, and someone had brought in extra cushions. The pillowcases were bright yellow, patterns of sunflowers on them; they somehow made this whole experience even more surreal.

“Bucky?” He didn’t know if the word actually made it out of his mouth, but Bucky’s eyes crinkled like they’d always done when he smiled, despite his mouth barely moving now.

“Yeah, Steve.”

Steve didn’t know which of them moved first, but next thing he knew, he had his arms wrapped around his friend, who was reciprocating likewise, albeit with less vigour. The muscles under his arms, pressed tight against his torso, were much harder than those of the Bucky he’d grown up with, but they were still Bucky. Long strands of brown hair tickled his nose and got in his eyes, and that was a new experience too, but one that would hopefully became familiar.

“You’re alright?” Steve asked when they pulled away. He knew he was making Bucky feel awkward by the way he was staring at him, but he didn’t know how to stop.

“That’s what your friends told me. They checked up on me about a half hour ago. I’ll still feel like shit for a while, but I’ve had worse.”

A grin stretched across Steve’s face, so wide that it almost hurt. He let out a laugh of disbelief. “God, I can’t believe it.”

Bucky tilted his head, movements stiff. “Neither can I. It’s something out of a Buck Rogers story.”

 

0d 14h 55m

Tony watched the two of them talking, heads close together, a satisfied smile playing across his lips. They were in their own little world, a bubble that let in no glimpse of anyone or anything outside it. After a moment, he turned around and headed in the direction of the common floor. It wasn’t something he admitted often, but he truly needed sleep.

As the elevator doors opened, he spotted another pair sitting on the couches playing Super Smash Bros. Despite his tiredness, Tony’s feet moved towards them, plopping himself down heavily beside Clint.

“Hey, Stark,” Natasha said distractedly. “Everything good with James?” 

It was interesting to see the various names everyone called their newest reformed assassin.

“Yup.” Tony stifled a yawn. “Steve’s with him now.”

She nodded.

“So,” Clint began in a conversational tone that Tony knew didn’t bode well, “you two still on for tomorrow?”

Tony blinked in confusion. “Tomorrow?” he asked, trying to recall what day it was.

“Yeah, tomorrow.” Clint looked at him for a brief moment before snapping his head back towards the screen. “It’s Valentine’s Day to— _fuck you, Nat_ —tomorrow. You made so many plans! I assume the giant bunny’s still coming?”

Tony kneaded his forehead with a hand. “Ugh. Yeah, tomorrow’s probably still on. Depends on Steve, really. I don’t want to pull him away from Barnes, not when he gets so antsy every time he’s out of sight. The bunny’s still on, though, so that’ll be interesting.”

“Good,” Clint said cheerfully.

Tony shot him a look. “Why’re you so invested in this?” he asked. “No love life of your own to plan?”

He ignored the death stare Natasha sent his way, despite immediately regretting his sharp tone.

“Fuck you too, Stark. Now, see, I’ve known you long enough to know that you’re even more of an asshole when you’re dead on your feet. _I_ ,” he stressed the word, “am your _friend_ ,” another emphasis, “and I like to see you not jump ship the second another guy comes into the picture. Not after how much effort it took on _my_ beha—”

“ _Our_ behalf,” Natasha said in an undertone.

“—to get you two together in the first place! We’ve been planning this shit for _weeks_! And you’re just going to half-ass it because Barnes is back?”

Tony stared at him, mouth slightly open. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he said finally.

Clint let out a string of expletives before throwing his controller down and stalking off. Tony turned to Natasha, a bewildered question in his eyes.

“He and Coulson are having issues,” she told him. “And Phil cancelled their Valentine’s Day plans because apparently some emergency came up.”

Tony nodded slowly. “Um. Do you want me to play?”

“Go ahead.”

“I’m not jealous of Bucky, you know,” Tony said truthfully.

“I know.”

 

0d 5h 4m

It happened so casually that Tony didn’t know why he hadn’t seen it these last few days. With all the deathbed pining and longing looks and now with the hugging and physical contact and general _ease_ between the two of them, it really wasn’t surprising that he’d be Steve’s lover.

It probably didn’t count as cheating if they were your assumed-dead brainwashed assassin partner come back to life, especially not after surviving said brainwashing.

Tony had gone in to test the inner workings of the prototype prosthetic he’d designed. It was barely anything beyond the core circuitry that connected with Barnes’ brain with five somewhat finger-shaped knobs at the end, but he couldn’t work any further without troubleshooting the current design on the patient.

“All I’m doing today is seeing how you go with this,” Tony had warned Barnes when he’d brought it in. “Also, I get that you aren’t big on scientists or body mods, so I completely get if you want me to scrap the whole project and—”

“No, it’s okay,” Barnes had replied in that quiet voice of his. “I’ll be fine.”

“You sure, Buck?” Steve had asked, sitting in his usual place by Bucky’s side. “You don’t have to do this now. You’re only just recovering.”

“Nah, Stevie.” Barnes had pushed himself into a sitting position, face tight with the effort. “Better now when I’m weaker, just in case.”

Tony had nodded slowly, chewing on his lip. He’d talked Barnes through the entire process, surprised at how engaged he was in the engineering.

“I told you, you reminded me of him,” Steve had said fondly. Tony wasn’t sure who it’d been directed at.

The whole thing took a couple of hours to do, after which Tony had stretched with a grunt and taken the device off Barnes – or James, as he insisted Tony call him. “That’s it for today, James. Quick question – what’s your favourite colour?”

James raised an eyebrow at him. “Will you make the arm the colour I say? Because honestly, I have no idea what shade I’d want my murdering limb to be in.”

“Buc—” Steve started to say, his face crinkling together in a dismal expression, when Tony let out an undignified snort and Bucky cracked the first genuine smile he’d seen.

“I like you,” Tony said. “Steve didn’t mention you had a sense of humour.”

He’d left the room, notes flying around his brain as he played with the arm in his hands. And then—

He cursed under his breath. He’d forgotten the screwdriver. Walking back into the Hulk chamber, Tony could see Steve and James already starting to set up for a session of poker, sitting cross-legged on either end of the bed like schoolboys. Steve was dealing the cards, despite James’ claims to be better at it. Their heads were leaning inwards, and as Tony watched, James dropped a card on the floor.

Even after just a few hours with him, Tony could already imagine the expletives that were probably streaming out of the other man’s mouth. Steve and James both jumped forward to pick it up, bodies stretching down without moving their legs. Maybe Tony should go in now, see if he could startle them both into falling—

Suddenly, their faces were a little _too_ close together. James’ hair covered majority of the view, but there was no doubt that they were definitely kissing. There was definitely some tongue action going on in there.

Tony’s mind short-circuited, and he almost dropped the piece of tech he was holding. He stood there frozen for a moment, until Steve and James straightened, Steve laughing.

And then he was running, getting himself as far away from the Hulk chamber as he could. The grip he had on the raw beginnings of the arm were digging into his flesh, but all he could think about was making it to his lab.

 _Of course_. The two words kept circling in his mind. _Of course_. Of course Steve’s regret and nostalgia of Bucky would be also be for the romantic love they had shared. Of course he wouldn’t waste time in rekindling that, not after all that the two of them had been through.

Of course Tony was the second choice.

There was a part of him, rather large, in all honesty, that wanted to hit something. Break a few screens. Ruin a priceless prototype or two. Get so incredibly drunk that he drowned out the entire day, or perhaps a week. He wanted to grab his sledgehammer and smash it into a window.

His hands tingled as he dropped the arm onto the first bench he could see. There was something wet on it, staining the clean silver and colourful wires.

Blood. Because of course it was. There were too many sharp edges on the arm for it to be held so tightly and then come away unscathed. Tony walked mechanically over to the sink, running his palm under the water. He was playing in third person, watching his body go through the motions.

His hand slammed against the two mugs drying on the sink. They flew across the room, shattering with a crash that reverberated throughout the silent room, echoing. Tony gripped the countertop with both hands, eyes squeezing shut as he tried to breathe calmly.

He turned on the tap, filling up one of the luckier glasses and downing it in a few swallows. The only noise was the sound of Dum-E whirring to clean up Tony’s mess.

“Leave it, Dum-E,” he said quietly.

And for once, Dum-E actually listened to him. Some part of Tony was disappointed that he couldn’t have a yelling match, couldn’t shout at someone and take out his anger on them. His skin itched for a fight.

He headed for the garage, using his private elevator.

 

—0d 7h 18m

When Steve woke up, Bucky was frowning at the laptop sitting in front of him. Steve smiled at the sight.

“Morning,” he said with a yawn. “Or is it? We really need to get some clocks in here.”

“It’s seven,” Bucky replied distractedly. “Hey, Stevie, can I ask you a question?”

“’Course.” Steve walked over to the sink, where he had his own toothbrush.

“You and Tony, you’re dating?” Bucky’s tone was hesitant, but Steve’s smile grew. The fact that Tony and Bucky had gotten along so well was yet another silver lining to the cloud.

“Yeah. We, uh, we’ve been together for about seven months now.”

“So…why aren’t you with him?”

“Wa’?” Steve spat toothpaste into the sink. “Is this your way of getting me to leave you alone for a bit?”

“No, I mean, why aren’t you with him right now? It’s your first Valentine’s Day together, isn’t it?”

Steve’s stomach plummeted. “ _What?”_

He rushed over to the computer, yanking it out of Bucky’s hands. Sure enough, there in the corner, the date showed. He stared at it, mind a complete blank as to how to fix this. It’d been his turn for the first half of the day, and then Tony would take over after noon until midnight.

He’d already wasted more than half his time _asleep_.

“Oh no,” he breathed, mind unable to process the fact staring at him directly in the face.

Bucky shoved his shoulder. “Go find him, punk!”

Steve took off at a run, hands madly scrabbling at the door as it slid open much too slowly.

“JARVIS, where’s Tony?” he asked desperately. _Please be asleep, please be asleep…_

“Sir has turned off all tracking systems and instructed me to not divulge information of his whereabouts.”

 _Shit_. Steve’s heart beat a frantic tempo in his chest, threatening to burst at any moment. He’d spent so long planning for this day and when it finally arrived, he’d ruined it without even trying.

“Okay, uh, the team—where’re they?” he asked as he raced up the staircase, pumping his legs as fast as he could and bounding up four steps at a time.

“They are on the common floor.”

Okay. Steve could still salvage this. He’d just explain to Tony that he’d lost track of day and night and time and everything that wasn’t Bucky. Tony deserved better, and he’d spend the rest of the week making it up to him, lavishing him with attention, taking him out…

“Where’s Tony?” was the first thing out of his mouth when he saw Bruce and Natasha sitting at the dining table, a chessboard between them.

Bruce gave him a startled look while Natasha narrowed her eyes at him. “Steve,” she said slowly. “Calm down. Breathe.”

“I don’t have time to calm down!” Steve barked, hands going through his hair as he paced. “It’s Valentine’s Day! And this is my half of the day and I had so much planned and then I completely forgot, like an _idiot_ , and now JARVIS says that Tony’s gone—”

Bruce had walked up to him. “You can’t fix anything until you calm down and think rationally.” He picked up one of Steve’s hands and placed it on his chest, breathing exaggeratedly for Steve.

While Steve’s breathing returned to normal quickly, his mind was still reeling. It was almost half past seven in the morning. He was supposed to have finished preparing breakfast by now and would have just begun placing everything on the tray to bring to Tony in bed.

“JARVIS, when did Tony leave?” Natasha asked, eyes pensive.

“Sir left the premises at nine forty-seven last night.”

“In the armour or a car?”

“Car, Agent Romanoff.”

“Okay,” she said. “We can work with that.”

Steve was frowning. “Wait,” he said. “Why did he leave last night?” He glanced up. “JARVIS?”

“I am not at liberty to say, Captain.”

Steve let out a frustrated breath as he began pacing again. “That must’ve been just after he left Bucky and me. He had the arm – he would’ve gone to the workshop to drop it off before going anywhere else.”

“I’ll come with you,” Bruce offered. “I’ve spent more time there than the rest of you this last week.”

He didn’t say it with any malice, but Steve still felt the statement sting as it sounded.

They walked there in silence, worst case scenarios going through Steve’s mind. The only thing he held onto was that Tony left seemingly of his own volition. He wasn’t kidnapped. He’d probably just gone out and fallen asleep somewhere and lost track of time. He’d be fine.

The workshop was exactly as it always looked when they entered. It was organised mess, as Tony liked to put it. Steve saw the arm on the table closest to the door. Just as he was thinking that perhaps Tony had left the workshop and gone somewhere else before leaving the Tower, he spotted something.

There were specks of dried blood on the arm. Steve rushed forward to grab it, turn it over to make sure that he wasn’t just imagining things.

“Bruce—” he started to say, but Bruce interrupted him.

“Steve, I think you should come over here.” His voice was grim.

Swallowing hard, Steve walked to where Bruce was, in the kitchenette. He brought the arm with him.

There were shards of broken ceramic all over the floor. Steve could see instantly what they’d been of – that I ♥ NYC mug that he’d brought down when he’d been spending more and more time with Tony in the shop while he worked, and another with his shield on it.

And then he looked at the countertop and he could swear that for a second his heart stopped. There was a bloody mark on it.

“JARVIS says no one else has been here since Tony and I were yesterday morning,” Bruce told him. “Meaning…”

“It’s Tony’s,” Steve finished when Bruce trailed off. He lifted up the arm to show Bruce. “It has blood on it, too. I’m guessing that’s explains that.” He nodded at the counter.

Bruce took the arm from Steve and brought it over to one of Tony’s devices. “Just in case,” he said, glancing at Steve as he swabbed a sample of the blood and inserted it.

 

0d 0h 0m

Tony’s eyes went to the clock as he stumbled around in the dark. It was midnight, exactly. It was the fourteenth of February, exactly.

He wondered if he should call Steve, confront him and then break it off. Hell, even if it wasn’t for his benefit, Steve deserved to be able to make out with his long-lost love without a guilty conscience.

Tony bobbed his head to the beat, the music beating a rhythm in his chest. If he were honest with himself, he had no idea where he was. This was his third nightclub that he’d been to, going with various people he’d danced with who “knew someplace even better”.

He was high on the music and sweat and adrenaline that came from the flashing lights and heady atmosphere, but there wasn’t a lick of alcohol in his body.

A girl, probably a few years younger than he was, was dancing with her arms wrapped around his waist. He kept his own free, lifting them above both their bodies.

“I need a drink,” he shouted over the noise. “Keep dancing for me, sweetheart.”

And with that, he broke away from the pack, feeling as though he’d just resurfaced from underwater. Tony sat at the bar, watching the crowd move as his sipped from his glass of water.

Someone plopped down beside him. “There you are,” Clint said. “Do you know how hard it is to find this place, let alone a single human being in it?”

Tony shrugged. “You were the one who insisted on coming,” he said.

“Yeah, to keep an eye on your crazy ass. Seriously, man, what’re you doing here?”

“Forgetting but without the alcohol.”

“Forgetting what, that it’s Va—”

“Zip it! We don’t say the V-word anymore, got it?” Tony said fiercely, the first real bit of emotion he’d felt all night.

“What happened, Tony?” Clint asked.

“You know, I usually go with the classic ‘it’s not you it’s me’ but this time it really was Steve – but I don’t blame him, and that’s all I’m going to say. I didn’t give you the address just to talk about my dying relationship. I want to have fun with a pal whose day, from what I’ve heard, would’ve been almost as shitty.” Tony gave Clint a massive grin, one he knew made him seem unhinged.

Clint was watching him warily. “Okay…” He cleared his throat. “Okay, you know what, fine. But we go home when this place closes.”

Tony let out a laugh. “Sure thing.” There were probably people here who knew a place _even better_ that was open all day, where no one would recognise him beneath the flashing lights and fog.

 

—0d 13h 56m

Tony returned to the Tower just after Bruce had convinced Steve to have lunch with them instead of what he’d been doing since he’d woken up: madly destroying punching bags between breaks to check whether Tony had come back.

He’d gone through all twenty of the reinforced bags Tony had made for him. There was currently a mountain of sand somewhere in the Tower – Steve didn’t particularly care as to where or what would happen to it at this moment; he’d swept it up and then carried on his business.

Steve had been eyeing the non-reinforced bags when Natasha had come into the gym, a look on her face that boded nothing good for Steve’s exercise routine. (Her glower had grown worse the more time he’d spent there, and he wanted to yell at her, _you have no right to judge my coping mechanism_ , and _what else do you think I should be doing?_ but he didn’t.)

“Come to Bruce’s kitchen,” she said, and left.

Steve had stared after her for a moment, and then slowly moved into action. He took down the bag he’d just put up, and went to unwrap his hands. He winced as they came off. Underneath, his fists were almost unrecognisable, and yet he could already see them doing better than they’d been before Natasha had come in.

Tony had a theory about that, something about adrenaline. Tony had theories about everything.

Steve had taken one look at the meal set out on the circular table in Bruce’s expansive dining area and felt his stomach turn at the thought of eating while not knowing where Tony was, why he’d decided to run off.

“Bruce—” he’d started to say.

“Look, you aren’t doing Tony any favours by not eating as well as going around hitting everything you can,” Bruce said over him in exasperation. “I may not know him like you do, but I doubt he’d want to come back and see the state of your hands. Or your _chi_.”

Steve, who’d been preparing to argue, was momentarily thrown. “My—my _chi_?” he asked. “Have you been hanging around with that Iron Fist kid again?”

“Yes, and no,” Bruce said. “Sometimes I go to meditate in the park, sometimes he does too. Sometimes we chat afterwards. It’s refreshing, really, what meditation does for you. I recommend you try it. After you eat.”

His eyes had flashed green, and Steve had hurriedly moved towards a chair.

Steve liked Bruce’s cooking. It’d been a lot to get used to, what with the variety of techniques he used in conjunction, but now it had become a part of home. Yet he couldn’t for the life of him, after he’d finished and was helping dry the plates, remember a single thing about the meal.

Tony sat in his gut like a lead stone, weighing him down. Or rather, the lack of facts did. He’d known, mostly from Tony himself, that Tony was an insecure man who’d been in one too many bad relationships. Tony had told him, countless times, that he would probably “fuck everything up”, that he would “bail at the first sign of trouble”. That he would probably always look for reasons to jump ship.

And the fact that Steve could barely remember any vivid details of spending time with Tony, or talking with Tony, these last few days, didn’t help matters. He knew that Tony liked Bucky – he’d seen the two of them with his own two eyes; Tony’d never hold something like that over Steve’s head.

He was still in Bruce’s living room when JARVIS announced, “Captain, Sir wishes you to know that he has returned and is in his workshop.”

Before Steve had even consciously processed the words, he’s jumped up and raced to the staircase, unwilling to wait for an elevator. He jumped down the stairs as fast as his legs could take him, as fast as he could swing down and land efficiently.

The door to the workshop was ajar when he arrived. Steve almost ran inside before coming to an immediate halt just before the door and slowing himself down to a walk.

“Tony?” he said, as though speaking to a spooked animal.

“Hey, Steve.” Tony gave him a tight-lipped smile, and it was all Steve could do to not run over to him and grab him in a hug.

Instead, he stayed where he was, a benchtop with a wrench and Tony’s favourite drill-set between them. Tony, for lack of better way to put it, looked like he’d gone on a bender and hadn’t slept since. His clothes – still the T-shirt and jeans he’d been wearing when he’d come to troubleshoot the arm with Bucky, with a jacket thrown on over it – were all crinkled and smelt of liquor. Tony’s hair looked like he’d ran his fingers through it a thousand times, messy and standing on the end.

Steve didn’t want to say it, but he had to ask. “You haven’t been drinking, have you?”

Tony let out a bark of laugher, loud and sharp. “That’s the first thing you say to me? It figures.” He paused. “No, I haven’t. Guess my days of drowning my failed relationships are in the past.”

Steve frowned. “Fai—what do you mean, failed relationships? Tony,” he shut his eyes, exhaling slowly, “explain yesterday to me. Please.”

“I dunno, Steve. Maybe you should explain yesterday to me.” Tony’s voice was quiet, no longer loud or mockingly boisterous.

“What do you mean?” He tried to think back to yesterday – the only time he’d seen Tony was with Bucky.

“Steve,” Tony rubbed the bridge of his nose with a thumb and forefinger, suddenly looking as though each and every one of his years had hit him at once, “I’m not…well, I _am_ mad. And upset. I just—you could’ve just broken up with me, y’know? You could’ve just told me, and I’d have let you go.”

Steve was becoming more and more confused. “Tony…what is it you think I did?” he said in a soft voice.

“After I left with the arm, from the Hulk room, I realised I’d forgotten something.” He let out a huff of laughter. “I can’t even remember what it is now. I went back in, and I saw the two of you, kissing.”

“Kissing.” Steve said in an incredulous voice. “You saw me and Bucky kissing.”

“I know what I saw, Steve!” Tony shouted.

“Tony, Bucky and I aren’t like that. We never have been. We’re friends, brothers. We’ve never even “experimented” with each other. He’s very straight.” Steve said all of this slowly, but Tony was already shaking his head.

“No, no. Then how do you explain what I saw?” he demanded. His eyes were wide and desperate. Steve saw in them the part of Tony that had already written Steve of as ‘just like the rest of them’.

“Doesn’t JARVIS have video surveillance in there?” Steve asked.

“I do, Captain.”

“Play it for us, J,” Tony said, waving a hand.

A holographic screen popped up, and on it, four different camera angles. Steve raised his eyebrows slightly – he hadn’t realised quite how tracked the chamber was.

“Yeah, a bit further,” Tony muttered. “Stop. From there.”

He saw himself and Bucky, on the bed with a pack of playing cards between them. He was shuffling, which he’d never done before – Bucky had always been the one to shuffle. He watched the two of them closely, wondering how the hell Tony had—

Oh.

Steve cleared his throat. “Um. I can explain?” he said. He ran a hand through his hair, wondering how to explain to someone who had had a rather unorthodox upbringing as an only child and had made his first real friend halfway through his teenage years, that sometimes, no matter how old you were, you still had staring contests that led to the loser, usually in retaliation, doing something like licking the other’s face with their tongue.

He said as much to Tony.

Tony stared at him. “I’m sorry, you expect me to believe that?”

“Keep watching,” Steve told him. “He shoves me off the bed after I get him.”

JARVIS rewound it back by a few seconds, and Tony watched in disbelief as Bucky immediately flinched backwards the second Steve’s mouth made contact with his face. He wiped at his cheek frantically with the hem of his shirt, an expression of utter disgust. Steve, on the camera, was bent backwards in laughter, and as they watched, Bucky moved one of his legs at lightning speed, shoving Steve’s knee so he’d go somersaulting backwards and off the bed.

The video paused on Steve still on the floor.

Steve, in the present, was watching Tony. He tried to read him, but there was nothing there to read; Tony was a blank slate. He swallowed hard, wondering what to do next. He’d explained himself, the non-existent problem was solved, but he had no idea how to proceed from there.

“There is one thing I do need to apologise to you for,” Steve began carefully. “I’m sorry I’ve been spending so much time with Bucky. Hell, if it weren’t for him, I would’ve completely forgotten that today’s Valentine’s Day—”

“Steve,” Tony broke in, eyes full of incredulity. “You have _nothing_ to apologise for. _I’m_ the one who’s sorry. I—” he gestured with a hand, “I’m the one who royally fucked up our Valentine’s Day. For something I should’ve confronted you about _yesterda_ y, and something I shouldn’t’ve assumed you’d do, ever.”

Steve was shaking his head. “It was pretty damning – I don’t blame you for not sticking around after it happened. And I can’t say I’m not hurt that the first thing you thought was that I’d _cheat_ on you, and _initiate_ it. But…that’s something we can work through. Right?” He looked at Tony beseechingly.

“Of course we can,” Tony murmured, finally walking over to him.

Steve, who’d made himself frozen to the spot until Tony had taken the first step, practically ran across to him. He circled his arms around Tony’s waist as Tony’s own were flung around his shoulders as he threw himself at Steve. His face was burrowed in Steve’s neck, and Steve could hear him whispering something, chanting it, but couldn’t quite make out what it was. It didn’t matter; he tightened his hold, face hidden in Tony’s messy strands.

 

—1d 22h 51m

Tony traced vague patterns on Steve’s palm. He could feel it twitching whenever his touch got a little too ghostlike, tickling Steve. Steve’s other arm was being used by Tony as a pillow, his fingers rubbing Tony’s upper arm from time to time.

The two of them were lying on a picnic rug, a blanket over their feet. Beside them was a wicker basket, now full of empty take-away containers that had once held food.

“I wanted to be an astronaut for a while, when I was a kid,” Tony said. “I loved stars, I loved planets, I loved space. Honestly, I should’ve just invented a spaceship instead of so many Iron Man suits. In fact, the next Iron Man suit should be operable in space.”

Steve smiled into Tony’s hair. “It’d sure be something, if I told myself as a kid that I’d be dating an astronaut. Hell, it’d be something if I told him that there were people on the moon.”

“How about next our Valentine’s Day is this same picnic, but on the moon.”

“Sure,” Steve said. “But eating might be a challenge if we have helmets on.”

Tony waved a hand dismissively. “Semantics.” Steve snorted.

“Just make sure that spaceship has room for two,” he told Tony, and something inside Tony swelled up.

They lapsed into silence for a moment, the two of them content in just being together. There was something domestic about a picnic that ended in stargazing. Tony had never thought he’d be one for it, always more interested in making sure his partners felt lavished with attention on various romantic holidays they spent together. For a long time, this day meant creative sex.

But today had been about both of them, planned out by him and Steve together in bed the night before. The bunny had arrived – he’d never gotten around to cancelling it – and had been sitting in the corner, facing the walls. Tony hadn’t realised how creepy its round, glassy eyes would look, but Steve loved it with a passion that was also rather strange but entirely welcome.

Tony had texted Pepper a photo of Steve hugging it, and had smirked victoriously at the response.

Regardless, it definitely wouldn’t be in the room if they were going to have sex. Or sleep.

“Are you thinking or dozing off?” Steve said in his ear. His nose was cold where it pressed against the shell, and Tony shivered slightly at the contact.

He turned his head, looking at Steve. “Genius, remember? I’m always thinking. Especially after the best day ever.”

It really had been perfect, better than Tony could’ve imagined – his cheeks hurt from all the smiling. He’d woken up beside Steve, the two of their faces turned inward so that when his eyes had opened, they were to Steve’s sleeping face, looking younger with all its lines smooth for once. He’d stayed like that for a moment, memorising the softness of Steve’s cheeks and the way his eyelashes created shadowy Venus flytraps on them.

They’d made breakfast together, working in sync for most the part – the only mishap had been a crushed egg and ruined shirt.

“I don’t understand how you aren’t an amazing cook,” Steve had laughed. “It’s literally science!”

“It’s also partly art and intuition,” Tony had told him, jabbing his knife at Steve to emphasise his words. “And honestly, maybe I cook really well. Maybe you just have weird taste buds.”

“Maybe,” Steve had conceded. “But then you’d find my cooking weird, which you don’t.”

They’d gone to the Museum of Sex, because after Steve had heard about it, he’d laughed until tears had started to roll down his face. They’d flown there and back, and then high over the city, another little present in itself.

And now they were on the rooftop of the Tower, long-gone food in the basket from a nearby restaurant they both adored. Tony could feel Steve’s chest rise and fall with each breath, hear his heartbeat thumping away under the muscle and bone. It was comforting to know that another person loved you, that you were capable of loving them back so completely.

"I would've thought that stargazing would remind you of..."  _The portal_. Steve didn't have to say it for Tony to hear it loud and clear.

He cleared his throat. "It did for a while, but exposure therapy works a treat." He smiled deprecatingly at Steve. "Besides, I have too much emotional attachment to space to let something like a fucking alien invasion ruin it.

“See that one, there,” he pointed to a constellation that was as familiar to him as his own palm. “That’s my favourite. Jarvis pointed it out to me, when I was leaving for boarding school, and I’d be able to see it from my window…”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading =) 
> 
> come talk to me on [tumblr](http://fanfictiongreenirises.tumblr.com/)


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